Faded
by Cresswell Thorne
Summary: Hermione and Remus take their friendship to the next level. *FINISHED*


_Okay, so I was_ going _to post my Draco/Hermione (prequel to 'Fred and the Chocolate Covered Migraines', but I just can't bring myself to stop editing it. So, this_ _is a one shot featuring my new obsession Hermione/Remus. The idea came to me when I was listening to Faded - by soulDecision (see summary and title). I absolutely adore them together. Now, this is pretty much just smut, but if this gets interest I was considering a multi-chapter story, nothing too crazy though. Reviews are, of course, much appreciated. (Remus obviously is alive and is not with Tonks, I didn't think it was necessary in this story to get into the details of that relationship or lack thereof as this is AU after DH). EWE?_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

When Hermione tumbled through her front door, her hand firmly intertwined with his own, it was a good indicator, at least to Remus, that she wasn't as sober as she claimed to be. And he was having a _very_ difficult time not taking advantage of her overly-flirtatious touches, sultry glances, and pouty, red lips that she kept biting temptingly in her tipsy stupor.

They had met up at a muggle pub for their weekly Friday catch up with friends, only to find themselves stood up by Harry and The Weasley's. He had been tempted to call it a night after receiving their message just as Hermione was arriving at the pub, spotting him at the bar. And Remus simply couldn't bring himself to call off their evening when he saw her in her tight leather pants and her diaphanous blouse. That outfit had him practically frothing at the mouth, pants tightening uncomfortably, his cock straining against the zipper when she leaned across the bar to order a beer, the leather hugging her arse decadently. He had to bite back a groan when she squeezed his thigh gently to regain his attention, his gaze had been firmly fixed on his beer, and he had been very concerned that she would note his arousal when her hand ran up and down over his thigh, before resting it on his knee. They shared a plate of fish and chips, talking about their respective days, and before he knew it they were each five beers in and it was pushing 11:00. As they made to part ways outside the pub, having made plans for brunch on Sunday, she stood up and pressed a drunken kiss to his cheek, teetering in her heels. Blushing furiously at the show of affection, platonic or not, he had been a gentleman and offered to escort her home. He had to make sure she got back to her flat safe and sound, after all.

So, he now found himself in the unique position of witnessing Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, sprawled across her foyer floor, glaring petulantly at him. Truly, he didn't mean to laugh, but he had never seen her acting so childishly before.

"'S'not funny, Re-Remus," Hermione hiccuped, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Rolling his eyes, he offered his hand to her, and she grasped it gratefully, before kicking his shin to throw him off balance and pulling him down to the floor with her. His knees connected painfully with the hard wood and he winced, trying to regain his footing.

"What the hell, Hermione?" She had stopped his attempts at getting up, and now had him square on his back, with her head on his chest. He would swear that his heart was beating a millions beats a minute and his arms reflexively went around her.

"I just thought that you should be down her with me, sorry, Remmy."

"Oh, boy, you must be drunk if your calling me 'Remmy'."

"'M'not drunk, Remmy. Pleasantly buzzed 's'all." Right, she was completely plastered and he knew it.

"You'll have to forgive an old werewolf, love, but this is not very comfortable." Hermione only burrowed deeper against him at that, and he resigned himself to a stiff back in the morning. Oh well, he could spend the day in bed, resting. And probably wanking. He had a _lot_ of new material for his 'spank bank', between Hermione's sultry touches and clothing that left little to the imagination. And the way she was curled against him just now. God, he could use a wank right now, he couldn't remember that last time he'd been so ready to go.

"You're not _old,_ Remmy. You are _mature,_ in your prime, some would say."

"And would _you_ say that?"

"That you're in your prime?" She raked her gaze across his body, pausing slightly when she saw the prominent bulge in his trousers. "I would _definitely_ say that." And there she was, biting that bloody lip of hers again. Eyes focused solely on his embarrassingly hard cock that was begging to be released from its constraints.

Her hand moved from where it was resting on his chest, to lightly trace down his abdomen, and grasped his erection through his trousers. Letting out a chocked gasp, he grasped her hand, intending to tug it away, before he saw the look in her eyes. The need. The desire. She _wanted_ him. "Need some help with this, Remmy?"

Merlin, did he _ever._ But he couldn't take advantage of her like that. And, when he voiced his concerns, she silenced him with a shockingly gentle kiss to his lips. Effectively ending the conversation. Well, if she insisted, he was all in. He had waited so long for this. For her. He wanted nothing more than to cross that line from friendship, to something more.

Remus took full advantage of the leverage he had, even though he was beneath her, and tugged her arm gently, bringing her legs over him to straddle him. "Gods, these pants are the sexiest things I've ever seen." He palmed her arse roughly though the leather, pushing her gently against him so that she could rock against his erection. "But they're going to need to come off."

She took the initiative and within moments had them both lying naked, her still straddling him, rubbing her lusciously wet core against his cock. When his fingers found her clit, she batted his hand away, saying that she was more than ready and didn't need any help. That she was ready for him. And her was _clearly_ ready for her. Fisting one hand in her unruly curls, he pulled her lips roughly to his and thrust into her in one swift motion. When she went to pull back, presumably so she could sit up and use her arms to push herself on and off him, he locked his arm about her waist, completely restricting her motions. "You may be on top, but I'm in control." He practically growled. She wriggled against him fiercely, trying to gain some friction, anything to satiate the need that burned through her, but it was only when she lay pliant in his arms, did he give her what she wanted.

Tightening his grip on her hair, he used his hold on her to rock her back and forth on his cock. Hermione groaned delightedly at his masterfulness, relishing the control he had over her. Her slick arousal allowing his cock to glide in and out of her at a furious pace that had them both breathing harshly. Both desperate to come. When he hit the rough spot that was deep within her with his blunt tip, he knew she only needed one good thrust before she came. Twisting his hand to pull her hair he moved her mouth back to his, tongues tangling desperately, and thrust up forcefully. Her walls fluttered and he moved his hand down to rub her arse, before pulling it back to lightly swat the perfect globe of flesh.

"Oh, gods, Remus. I'm-I-" Hermione's eyes rolled back slightly, her mouth dropping open as her climax crashed over her. Remus could feel the flood of heat drip down onto his thighs, her walls clamping around his cock, her fingers clutching his biceps tightly. And it was all too much for Remus, he couldn't hold back anymore. With one final thrust, he came inside her, roaring his satisfaction to the ceiling. Panting harshly, he pulled her tightly against his chest, his cock softening inside her still quivering pussy.

Smiling, she pushed a damp lock of hair away from his eyes, and buried her face into his neck. Peppering him with kisses that went straight to his groin. Remus knew they couldn't camp out on the floor, but was perfectly content to lay there for awhile, basking in the afterglow of the best fuck he'd ever had. Even if it didn't go _exactly_ as he'd imagined it.

"I thought the first time we did this, we would be in a bed." Remus knew he was pouting, but he couldn't help it. Shagging on the floor wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind for the first time he had sex with the witch of his every dream.

"We didn't even make it to a couch," she grinned wickedly.

"Well, there's always next time isn't there?" He was praying for a next time, a time for him to properly make love to her, to show her how good it could be between them. "Next time? So this _isn't_ a drunken one-off for you?" He thought, if only for a moment, that she looked terribly vulnerable as she asked him that.

"You could never be a drunken one-off to me. The beer just finally let me act on feelings I've had for a while."

"So," she gestured towards the stairs, "How about we make 'next time' right now?"

She giggled brightly when he scooped her up and pressed her close to his chest, "Right now sounds perfect."


End file.
